Death on the Coast by M Comley (best book recommendations TXT) 📗

doubted he could pull a baby squirrel on a balsa dog sled, much less her generous body, especially considering the incoming gale.

Patch tugged on the leash, he stood on his hind legs in an effort to heave her closer to him. At that moment, something hit her hard from behind. Her arms shot out for balance, but the seagrass cliff edge gave way beneath her feet as she scrambled to keep her grip; and she finally let go of the leash.

Angie shrieked, “Help!” Her legs slid closer to the edge, and she attempted to grasp for a handhold with her freshly manicured gel nails. Then came the bite of gravel against her cheek as her face slammed to the path.

Patch was barking and intermittently licking her face. She sensed his hysteria. Something tugged at her from behind, but she was too terrified to do anything more than breaststroke in the gravel and seagrass.

Patch’s tone altered to attack mode, just like it had the day her neighbor’s Doberman jumped over their fence. The tone of his growl changed, indicating his teeth were sunk into something, although she was too occupied to look. That was when she felt it. The rough texture of material around her neck, chafing her skin. A slender loop then jerked tight. Suddenly, something strong pushed and then her feet were openly dangling, the momentum already taking its toll.

“Noooo!” she whimpered, as the rope crushed her windpipe and she realized her impending fate.

1

“Which one would you like with your coffee, Sergeant Colt?” Sally asked over the glass cabinet, filled with donuts, that separated them.

He stared at the cabinet, his stomach rumbling with anticipation. “I think I had the blueberry last time,” Brendon mused.

Sally nodded, and with enthusiasm, waited for his approval. “And…?” she prompted him.

He was caught up in the many flavors before him. Absently, he glanced up. “Oh, yes, excellent, as they always are. I think I’m in the mood for cinnamon this morning. Make it three, if you would?”

Sally blushed with pleasure at his words and quickly scooped three into a bag, folding over the top as she handed it to him. Brendon handed over the bills and noticed her scowl. “What’s wrong?”

She nodded through the front window of Sal’s Sweets. “That infernal dog. He won’t stop barking. Already had to throw him out once.”

Brendon frowned. “Isn’t that Patch? Angie Potter’s schnauzer?”

Sally shrugged. “One dog looks like another if you ask me.” She handed him his change, which he promptly dropped in the cup marked Tips. “I wish she’d come and get him. He’s frightening off my customers.”

Brendon nodded, picking up his hat and settling it on his head before retrieving his coffee and donuts. He cleared his throat. “Has anyone seen Angie in town? Patch really should be on a leash.”

The scattering of diners looked up, and a few murmurs broke out, but most of them shook their heads.

Cecilia James pushed her chair back and threw her napkin to the table. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but that poor little guy is obviously upset. If any of you would put down your Danish long enough to check him out, you just might find Angie at the same time!”

There was an uncomfortable shifting of chairs as others realized she spoke the truth. Cecilia, a middle-aged, rounded woman, ran the town’s rescue, and her temper was legendary when a dog was abused.

“Come along then, Cecilia. Let’s go out and see what Patch has to tell us,” Brendon said, holding the door open for her.

Cecilia immediately bent to pet Patch, but he wouldn’t have it. Barking incessantly, he ran a few steps away and then came back to them, dropping his chest over his front paws to challenge them.

“Patch, buddy, what’s going on?” Brendon took a sip of his coffee and broke off a piece of donut to give to Patch, who ignored it; his frenzied barking grew louder. Brendon looked at Cecilia. “What do you make of that? I’ve never known a dog to turn down one of Sally’s donuts.”

Cecilia glared at him momentarily. “You feed dogs donuts? Are you out of your…”

“Cecilia…” he warned her. “Save the donut lecture for now, eh?” He walked to the nearby corner, searching for Angie who was nowhere to be seen.

With regret, he popped the donut chunk in his mouth, washing it down with coffee before tossing the rest into the nearby trash receptacle decorated with a Harley’s Hardware logo. He brushed his hands against his uniformed thighs, then pulled out his cell. “Good thing Angie is in my contact list.” He tapped the number and waited. And waited. “Funny, no answer. Maybe she’s lost Patch and is out looking for him, and forgot her phone.”

Cecilia nodded. “I’ll take him home with me while you find her,” she asserted in the take-charge voice she was famous for. Bending low, Cecilia held out her hand. “Patch, c’mon, boy.”

Patch crouched and growled and then neatly turned and ran. Cecilia took off, hot on his trail.

“Cecilia!” Brendon called after her. “Hold on there. Let’s follow him a little and see what has him so upset.” Brendon’s intuition had kicked in. Now that he set aside his aggravation with the uncooperative animal, he sensed there was trouble. He started after Patch.

The dog, realizing he had finally obtained their attention, galloped down the street toward the park that led to the Atlantic and its scenic coastal path. “Cecilia, do as I say now. Go to Angie’s place and see if her car is there. Maybe Christine is home and won’t answer Angie’s phone. See what you can find out and keep in touch with me.”

Cecilia’s mouth dropped open. She wasn’t accustomed to taking orders, but Brendon’s tone seemed to break through the growing red mist that highlighted her anger. Nodding, she said, “I’ll call you when I get there.”

Brendon was already gone, jogging after the excited dog. Patch, if we’re chasing a rabbit, I will cheerfully wring your neck!

Although